


Love is Fleeting and Sketchy

by EverestV



Series: Playing The Hand Dealt (Punkcop Prompt Fills) [21]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, basically just a college AU where Sarah is an art major
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverestV/pseuds/EverestV
Summary: Group of random drabbles about punkcop where Sarah is an awkward artist punk who gets embarrassed about drawing her crush ("crush???? what???? I never said that????") and Beth can only think about running and her best friend and how she needs to rein in the Gay™ before she explodes.





	1. Which Would Be The Right One?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Beth finding Sarah’s art (can be drawing, painting, writing, etc.)
> 
> This is actually the first chapter as in this is the beginning of their story. The chapters after are roughly chronological but this "story" isn't gonna be much of a linear chapter fic, just a bunch of prompt fills on a per-chapter basis.

Beth walked into the library hesitantly, wearing Cosima’s advice like armor: _Walk in—shit_ jog _in—and don’t stop moving. Don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone. Eye on the prize. You find the nearest empty room, you get in, and shut the door immediately. Show no fear._

It was pointless, really. Her hands were shaking and people were bustling about, recognizing her and calling out the occasional greeting. She lifted her hand in a wave on several occasions, but tried to at least keep moving (whatever Cosima suggested, no point in being rude). The study rooms were just ahead. She could do this, just had to get in quick. Show no fear.

Beth remembered the conversation clearly, it was hard to forget it. Cosima’s eyes wandering, smoke drifting from her nose then her mouth like an extremely lazy dragon. Beth was antsy and sat across the room, knowing better than to risk a contact high. She asked if there was a method to choosing, if there was a way to tell which study room would be the right one. Cosima just laughed. _An empty one, Beth. That’s all you really need._

Needless to say, this piece of advice went ignored. Panicking, she didn’t even bother glancing through the glass, she just barreled into the first room she saw.

“Oi!” A British lilt sounded behind her as she slammed the door after her. She turned and saw a girl about her age, angry and bristling, hastily covering a notebook with both her arms. “Kinda using this one, ya mind?”

“Oh, I’m—” Beth jumped and fiddled with the doorknob behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t see you were—”

“Well now you have. Mind shoving off now?” Beth couldn’t help but pause and catch her breath, taking in the girl before her. Eyeliner: heavy and black. Jacket: leather and black. Expression: heavy and pointed. Hands: smudged and gray, maybe from charcoal, maybe from lead. Beth couldn’t tell. She shook her head apologetically.

“Y-Yeah, I’m—” Beth tumbled out and closed the door, staring blankly at the wood in front of her. _She was kinda pretty...in a scary, intimidating, angry way. I didn’t get her name..._ She slapped her forehead. _Dammit, I didn’t get a room either._ She glanced up and down the hall, books and papers clutched close to her chest. _Pull it together, Childs. You’re gonna miss this is you keep waiting around. And if you don’t find a room quick, you’ll have to go back to studying at the dorms._ She shivered and ventured down the hall.

\---

Sarah heard a light knocking and frowned, pencil pausing mid-stroke. “What?” The door creaked open as if the question was a sign of given permission.

“Hi, um—”

“Oh, you again?” Sarah stared at the girl who had burst in earlier, hoping that hiding her sketch from view wouldn’t be noticed. “Glad you learned how to knock, but what do you want?”

“There’s, uh...there isn’t any more empty study rooms and I figured that since you weren’t actually studying, you wouldn’t mind if I...you know...”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she shifted to sit more forward in her chair. “What, just because I don’t have a stack of bloody textbooks like you means I can be interrupted?”

“No, sorry, I just saw you drawing and I thought—”

“What, that I didn’t need to focus? What if I’m studying for an art final or something?”

“Are you?”

Sarah leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and studying the girl. She didn’t seem as nervous anymore, her voice and hands were steadier, and a hard stare replaced her wandering gaze. Sarah figured she should back off, she had obviously pushed enough. “No.”

“Then not sure I see the problem.” The girl’s tone is steel, unrelenting, but not biting. She’s coldly patient, refusing to let Sarah rouse her up. _Impressive_. “Whatever you’re frustrated at shouldn’t affect—”

“Christ, just sit down.” Sarah shook her head and drew her notebook into her lap, eyes settling away from the girl. “You talk too much, trainers.”

“Tr-Trainers?”

“Bloody blinding, they are.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah watched the girl glance down at her neon green track spikes and blush, just slightly, as if she didn’t even realize she had chosen that pair to wear. Then she sat down like a breath escaped through clenched teeth. Briefly, Sarah wondered what that would be like to put into sketchy lines and curves.

The girl laid out her stuff slowly and distractedly, as if she didn’t think Sarah was paying as close attention as one could with their eyes trained elsewhere. Sarah’s lines were getting sloppy and she found herself correcting, erasing, redrawing, resisting the urge to start over. She needed to fo— “What are you drawing?”

Sarah scoffed. “No. Oh no. You sit here, you sit quietly.” Her hand slipped up another line and she swallowed back a curse. “Each to their own, yeah? Stick to your own and I’ll stick to mine.”

“Alright, alright.” The girl seemed to back off but only for a second. Sarah could practically feel the smile radiate off her. “Your shading is pretty great, though. That’s an excellent wall you’ve got there.”

“Pretty sure my exact words were ‘sit quietly’.” Sarah huffed as she brought her notebook back onto the table, only able to endure the cramped space for so long (not, of course, because she didn’t mind the girl being able to see her work-in-progress).

“I don’t recall yelling.”

“Whatever.” Sarah picked up her pencil after a moment of silence, glancing up to find the girl’s nose poked into a book with a highlighter in hand. She traced the girl’s eyelids absent-mindedly, wondering which medium would be the right one to get down the color of her irises. _Definitely too complicated for colored pencils, too intense for pastels, oils would be too messy...shit. I’ll figure it out._ “Thanks, though.”


	2. The Art of Stitching Hands and Hearts Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (weeks after first chapter??? it's been some time since, they're officially friends now)

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Sarah asked between rapid pants, meeting Beth’s smile with a lazy glare, matching her pace and slowing to a stop.

“I just— Sorry, I'm still kinda surprised you actually wanted to do my morning run with me. Can’t I be pleasantly surprised?”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she followed Beth into the dorm building. “Yeah, well, whatever. You owe me breakfast so figured I'd tag along and make sure you remembered. You get into a trance after a run, you forget tons of things.”

“Shut up,” Beth laughed, giving Sarah's shoulder a playful shove. “I do not. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“‘Course not. That's the point. You're so forgetful, you forget that you forget everything.”

“And those are the words of someone who wants free breakfast?”

“Someone who is  _ owed _ free breakfast, yeah.”

Beth shook her head as she led the way into her dorm room, stopping suddenly in the doorway to stretch. Sarah ran right into her.

“Oi, what was that for? You're all sweaty!”

“And _ you're _ not?” Beth chuckled as she begrudgingly moved out of the way. “I mean, jeez, sorry! I must've forgotten you were behind me. Silly me! I’m just so forgetful!”

“Shove off,”

\---

Sarah had tried to take her time in the shower—shampooing twice, idly letting the heat run over her—but now she was just wasting water and Beth still wasn’t finished and the two had grown silent anyway. Sarah grabbed her towel and stepped out from behind the curtain.

“Hey, I’m done, so. I’ll just meet you back in your room, yeah?”

“Sure,”

“Don’t take forever, please.”

“I’ll do my best,”

Sarah hesitated slightly, staring at the only closed curtain in the bathroom.  _ Stop. Going in there wouldn’t be like studying a nude in class, it’d be way different, it’d be...real. It’d mess everything up, complicate things. And who wants to be barged in on in the shower anyway? She’d probably punch me. Let’s not get punched by your best...wait, we’re “best friends” now? Is this primary school all over again? Shit, Manning, just move the fuck on. _ She shook her head and gathered her stuff in her arms, focusing on keeping her feet moving forward.

When she got to Beth’s room, put on some clothes, and managed to ruffle out most of the water from her hair, her fingers dragged themselves toward her sketchbook like deprived magnets. Immediately, she started sketching an action shot: a toned torso with swinging arms, lean and bent like an expert, then legs to match, pounding the ground with an even, determined gait. Then a neck, the outline of a head, a sketchy ponytail. She paused before attempting the steely expression she had in mind, complete with eyes like monochrome fire, with lips set in the beginnings of a frown. She erased it. She paused before attempting the weightless expression she had in mind, complete with eyes like a breath of fresh air, with lips curved and open in smile that reverberated off the page. She erased it. She let the sketch remain faceless with only an irritated smudge left behind.

Flipping the page, she started drawing the little sparrow they had seen pick at a worm during one of their breaks. It didn’t turn out too bad. She tried drawing it in flight too, but the feathers wouldn’t cooperate with the wing structure and the poor bird looked like a stranger to the open air. She didn’t erase it, though. She drew a tree on the next page, an empty bench underneath it, a pair of track spikes forgotten on the seat. She took the time to scramble around the room until she found a highlighter and colored in the shoes a bloody blinding neon green.  _ Manning. Get the fuck over this petty... _ whatever _ this is. There’s a fuckton of other things you could—  _ should _ be drawing. _ But the pencil wouldn’t budge, just stood at an uncertain attention above a blank page.

_ Bloody hopeless. _ She sighed and put her sketchbook back in her bag, lowering herself to the floor and laying down on her back with eyes closed and both hands draped over her stomach. She wasn’t sure how long it'd had been before Beth walked in, graciously already dressed.

“Woah, did you collapse there and die?” Beth laughed as she stepped over Sarah’s limp form. “I didn’t think I made the run  _ too _ long. I tried to keep you in mind, you know.”

“Fuck  _ off _ . You're just relentless today, huh?”

“If you say so.” Beth hummed under her breath. “You’re allowed to collapse and die on my  _ bed _ , though. You know that, right? I totally don’t mind as long as you don’t die messy, and it seems way more comfortable than the floor anyway.” Sarah stuck her tongue out as she sank onto the mattress and Beth gave her a thumbs up. “There ya go, champ. So what did you want to—”

A knock at the door interrupted her and she dutifully went to answer it. “Yeah? Oh hey, Ali. What’s up?”

“Hi. I was hoping we could— oh.” Her eyes flicked suspiciously to Sarah and the girl immediately sat up straighter against the wall. “Am I interrupting something? I didn’t know you were having someone over.”

“No, it’s fine, you’re fine.” Beth waved a dismissive hand but Alison pursed her lips and didn’t budge. “Or we can step out in the hallway if you want.”

“Yes please.”

Beth glanced back and offered an apologetic smile. “Just a minute, Sar. Think of where you want to eat in the meantime, okay?” With that, she closed the door after them two and Sarah let out a weighted sigh, stretching out on her back and against the pillow.

_ I’ve never met that girl. We’ve been together for a few— no. We  _ met _ a few weeks ago and haven’t even mentioned meeting each other’s friends yet. Does that mean anything? Shit,  _ stop _. This really is like primary school all over again. Meeting the friends like meeting the parents. Fuck me. _ She waited in the silence for a little longer, trying her best to suppress all thought, but Beth was apparently an expert at taking her time in all situations.

Eventually, Sarah stood and dragged herself over to the small CD player above the desk, not even bothering to search through the nearby stack of CDs, and just pressed play. Sarah didn’t recognize the song, it was some slow Indie song with minimalistic piano chords and dreamy vocals and a melancholy kind of atmosphere—a song so incredibly  _ Beth _ -like, that Sarah sank back down into the mattress and wrapped the song around herself like it was a blanket. She had gotten through maybe half the CD when Beth walked in.

“Hey, sorry, Ali goes off on tangents easily. Did you...?” Beth trailed off as she walked over. Sarah’s eyes were closed, but she followed the sound of her footsteps to the edge of the bed. “I thought you didn’t like my taste in music. Too ‘square’, isn’t that what you always say?” There was a smile in her voice that broke skin, that dug itself inside Sarah’s ribcage and still somehow made it easier to breathe.

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Yeah? Scooch over.”

Sarah complied with little hesitation and the feeling of Beth’s warm side pressed against her own, the two squished into a space entirely too small to accommodate them both, as she opened her eyes and turned to face Beth. Their postures were mirrored, both on their back, both resting their hands over their stomachs, both completely still, both meeting each other’s gaze with a quiet intensity.

“Hey.” Beth’s voice was a whisper, soft and smooth, unwavering and weighted. “Is something wrong? You’re getting kinda glassy-eyed on me.” Sarah shook her head slowly. “Are you sure? I can try to help with...well, whatever it is. You know I would, right?” Sarah nodded, glanced away. “Okay, well,” Beth slipped her hand into Sarah’s and the girl almost jumped out of her skin. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...I’m right here. Okay? For whatever you need. Seriously. I’ll be right here.”

“Thanks.” Sarah nodded, unable to deny the small smile floating to the surface of her lips. “Would that, uh...would you mind getting breakfast in? Kinda want to just stay here. You, um, your room is comfortable.”

Beth rolled her eyes with a smile. “Shit, you know how to play me like a fiddle. Fine, I can go get something quick for us. Bear claw and a tea sound good?”

“You’re damn right,” Sarah muttered softly, mirroring Beth’s accent perfectly.

“Punk.” Beth started getting up but Sarah’s hand shot out to catch at her wrist. “Hmm? Yeah?”

Sarah bit at her lip but the action felt stupid. She squeezed Beth’s wrist instead. “I’m serious. Thanks. For...for all of this.”

Beth was beaming like a candle flame. “You’re welcome.”


	3. Silent Wishes, Graphite Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: sketching  
> (days later??? a little time has past since ch. 2 but not much)

"You'll do it then?" If Beth was surprised at the timidness in Sarah's voice, she said nothing. Just finished her laugh with a nod and turned to face her.

"Let you 'character study' me for a homework assignment? Sure, why not."

"Great," Sarah took out her sketchbook and a pencil, setting herself up on the small table they shared. She got to work without a word and after a moment, Beth peered over at it curiously.

"So do I just—"

"Oi, no peeking!" Sarah snapped and waved at Beth to move back, not even looking up from the sketch to do so.

Beth conceded with a hidden smile. "Fine, fine, sorry. What do you want me to do, though?" She waited until Sarah looked up impatiently before continuing. _These damn angry artist types..._ "Is there a certain expression you're looking for? Do I have to sit without moving or something?"

"No. Definitely don’t do that." Sarah Manning’s “isn’t that bloody obvious” look could terrify a small child, Beth was sure of it. "Just act natural. Do whatever you want, just don't peek."

"If you say so." Beth sipped at her coffee and pulled out a book. "Let me know if you want me to pose or something."

Sarah silently considered it, but rolled her eyes without hesitation. _No need giving her anymore ammo than necessary._ "Yeah, Childs. I'll let you know."

\---

As the paper in front of her filled, Sarah found herself drawing further and further away from the original muse.

The real Beth was rooted securely in the chair before her, engrossed in some worn paperback, slouching and comfortable, hair worn down and straight. The corners of her mouth tugged just slightly into a ghost smile, an almost smile, or her eyebrows pulled together to discuss whatever complicated plot-line she was sure to be reading.

But the Beth on paper was grinning or smirking or laughing or sticking her tongue out. Her posture was bouncy and aimed high, loose and animated. Only one Beth had her hair straight while the rest wore it wet and curly or messily braided or just barely pulled back. And where her expressions were all heavy lines and stark contrasts, her eyes exacting and easily recognizable, her shoulders fluid and effortless, her hair seemed less certain of itself in comparison. The outlines were faint and constantly changing direction, always varying, most of the time spiraling, losing themselves in each other before being found again in a completely different place.

But every shaky strand or sloping muscle line served solely to highlight her face: a curl just above the smile in her eyes or a wave laying against the trembling laugh in her jawline, the tilt of her head following the upward pull of her cheeks or the asymmetry of her shoulders mirroring a crooked smirk.

Guiltily, Sarah would admit Beth looked like a completely different person on paper. Because on paper, she was the mere glimpses Sarah rarely saw, the moments she had to guess at, the spaces needing to be filled in. Beth was an endless supply of possibilities and while Sarah wanted to explore every one of them, she wasn't sure she had— that anyone had enough paper for it.

When the page was full, she set her pencil down. Beth’s hand had moved. Shifting away from propping up her chin, it settled itself lazily across her book, fingers curled protectively around the corner. Sarah immediately started mentally tracing over the outline of her knuckles.

But Beth noticed. She glanced up when Sarah stopped moving and made an overly apparent effort to avert her eyes from the hollowed sketchbook. “What, you done already?”

Sarah looked up at the expression that finally faced her, taking in as much as she could in the moment she was given. She realized she might have drawn Beth’s hairline a little off when the subject in question cleared her throat to prompt an answer. “Uh, no. Not yet. Just finished a page.” Sarah made a point of making the papers rustle together as she flipped to the next blank white.

“How much do you need exactly?” Beth raised an eyebrow and Sarah took careful note of the angle, the way it arched, the way it bowed.

“More.” Sarah said simply as she turned back to the sketchbook. Absently she started sketching the outline of a face in case Beth was peeking. “Not sure with this teacher, so, better safe than sorry.”

“Right, well,” Beth turned back to her book and Sarah took the opportunity to hastily erase the budding sketch. “That posing offer is still on the table.”

“I’m keeping that in mind, trust me.” Sarah said with sarcasm heavy and heartbeat light. Her pencil sketched two hands, opposite hands, one folded gently over the other, one more calloused than the other, one resembling a nearby hand flipping the page in a book, the other resembling a nearby hand trying to keep a captured pencil from shaking.

When it was done, Sarah quickly moved to a new page and picked up expressions again, hiding the silent wish behind empty white and cultivating graphite, hoping her subject didn’t notice. Or maybe hoping that she did. _Whatever. Either way. Hopefully she noticed. No, nevermind._


End file.
